Cam Mountain, where heaven and earth meet in the West

Hidden deep within the endless waterways and rice paddies of Vietnam’s Mekong Delta, where the morning roosters still crow into a haze of dew and the horizon melts into golden fields, there rises a peak unlike any other. Cam Mountain, known as Thien Cam Son, does not appear simply as a mountain. It emerges like a solitary stroke on the canvas of the flatlands, a bold yet graceful presence that speaks of both majesty and stillness. Towering yet intimate, awe-inspiring yet serene, its silence seems to echo through generations.

At dawn, when mist still curls lazily along the village paths, the journey to An Hao commune in Tinh Bien district begins like a quest for something beyond beauty. The winding road to the mountain cuts through rows of towering sugar palm trees, each trunk bearing the timeworn marks of Khmer hands and heritage. Every turn of the wheel draws travelers deeper into a realm of myth and reverence, a place where earth and sky have held a silent pact for thousands of years.

Cam Mountain is not merely the highest peak in the That Son range. It is a vessel of legends passed down from the days when Emperor Gia Long, fleeing his enemies, is said to have sought refuge here. To preserve its sacred quiet, locals named it Thien Cam Son, meaning the mountain of divine silence, a place forbidden to be disturbed. These stories, whispered from one generation to the next, cling to the mountaintop like a veil of fog, quiet but everlasting.

As the cable car glides over lush forest canopies, a valley unfolds below in golden terraces, glimmering under the early sunlight. Tiny rooftops peek from the land like mosaic tiles on a green expanse. But the true beauty lies not in the height nor the grandeur, but in the harmony of drifting clouds, whispering trees, and the distant sound of temple bells echoing through the air. Even the wind seems to pause to listen.

At the summit of Vo Bo Hong, 716 meters high, stands a temple dedicated to the Jade Emperor. The air is thin and cool, and each step feels lighter, as though gravity itself is gentler. Here, under the clear sunlight, a great white statue of the Laughing Buddha smiles peacefully toward the sky. They say that if you meet his gaze, your worries will quietly dissolve like morning mist beneath the sun.

One of the mountain’s most mysterious places is Bach Ho Cave. Local lore tells of a white tiger sent by the gods to guard this sacred forest. Though no one has ever seen the creature, a paw print etched in stone near the cave’s mouth continues to stir awe and wonder. Not far from there lies Thuy Liem Lake, still and mirror-like, so clear that clusters of moss sway beneath the surface. In this place, even your breath slows, time flows softer, and your heart begins to settle.

Stories abound here—tales only locals can tell. It is said that many monks once chose Cam Mountain for silent retreat. One famed monk was believed to have meditated without food for months, sustained only by dew and wind. Another tale speaks of Thanh Long Stream, whose cool waters are believed to be where a green dragon once emerged to bless the villagers below. Real or not, these stories breathe through the land like the pulse of the mountain itself.

Travelers reach Cam Mountain from Chau Doc or Long Xuyen, following a national road that leads into smaller paths. As the mountain draws near, the air changes—cooler, crisper, tinged with the earthy scent of forest leaves, temple incense, and the faint aroma of burning resin from roadside stoves. In the rainy season between May and November, the landscape glows in shades of emerald. Mist lingers in the trees, and forest flowers bloom quietly, as if to reward those who come with genuine intention.

Along the journey, bamboo huts offer rest and warmth. Here, you may find bánh xèo made with wild herbs, a simple yet unforgettable dish. Crisp golden crepes wrap around shrimp and pork, paired with a mosaic of leaves—cóc, bứa, young mango. One bite, and the taste of the forest unfolds on your tongue. Strangers become friends over hot coals and old tales. And if luck allows, you might stumble upon a plate of mountain snails boiled with lime leaves, a delicacy found only on Cam Mountain and Núi Dài. One bite brings a burst of sweetness and crunch, wrapped in fragrant steam.

Cam Mountain is also the perfect retreat for those seeking a slower pace in an accelerating world. Sitting on a stone, watching clouds drift by, walking under arching canopies, or simply standing still in the vast embrace of sky and earth—each person finds a private moment. It may be a bell tolling at dusk, a monk chanting alone in a quiet shrine, or a child laughing beneath colorful umbrellas during a village celebration.

Some say people come to Cam Mountain to escape the chaos of life. Others believe it is where you learn to listen to yourself. But perhaps the real reason why this place stays in the heart is something beyond explanation. It is in the kiss of mist on your cheek, the scent of summer wind, the final glance from the cable car as the mountain disappears behind the trees.

There are places that do not appear on maps, only in the memory of those who have walked their paths. Cam Mountain is such a place—a gentle silence nestled in the southern land, a small world that somehow feels infinite. And when you leave, what you take with you is not just a photograph or souvenir, but a quiet note in your soul, like the breath of a mountain that has not yet faded into the wind.